


True Lies

by roe87



Series: Steve/Bucky modern au's [19]
Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Action, Action & Romance, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Canon Disabled Character, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Happy Ending, Humor, M/M, Married Couple, Married Life, Minor Injuries, Movie AU, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Bucky Barnes, SHIELD, Secrets, Spies & Secret Agents, Spy Steve Rogers, Undercover, Undercover Missions, Writer Bucky Barnes, lying by omission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 18:27:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20912120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roe87/pseuds/roe87
Summary: Secretly a spy but thought by his husband to be a simple data analyst, Steve Rogers injures his arm on a mission and is ordered to stay home and recuperate.Steve realises that his neglected husband, fiction writer Bucky Barnes, is feeling bored. So, Steve uses some of his spy know-how to spice things up.Things don't quite go to plan...





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zacharypay1_Alisa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zacharypay1_Alisa/gifts).

> True Lies is a 90s movie and it's cracky and hilarious. So basically Steve is Arnold Schwarzenegger and Bucky is Jamie Lee Curtis. :D
> 
> This is for zacharypay1_Alisa, thank you for being such a joy! ❤
> 
> ~~

Bucky opened a new document on his laptop and stared at the blank page.

He huffed out a breath and his eyes drifted to the window. Outside it was bright and sunny, but with a cool breeze. Perfect weather for strolling around the neighborhood. Except, Bucky was bored of strolling around on his own, and his husband was away at work.

Steve was _always_ away at work.

Bucky looked back at his document, dictated four words before giving up and swivelling around in his chair.

"That's it, I'm bored," he admitted out loud.

Alpine, his loyal white cat, was curled up asleep on a nearby chair.

"Ahem," Bucky said a little louder. "I said, I'm bored."

Alpine stirred and stretched his white fluffy limbs, rolling around to face Bucky with an inquisitive, "Mrrp?"

Bucky smiled at him. "I'm about to go out of my mind, I swear. Steve's gonna come home and find I've flipped my lid like in The Shining. Here's Bucky!"

Alpine blinked his eyes sleepily at Bucky.

"I know, I know," Bucky sighed. "It's my fault, I wanted to be a writer. Here I am, writing." He gazed balefully out the window. "On my own."

Alpine yawned, mouth big and wide.

"Fed up with my moaning?" Bucky chuckled, and got out his phone. "Yeah, I'm fed up too. Let's bug Steve. Maybe he'll be game for some sexting."

Bucky tapped out a quick message to Steve, just to say hi. He figured if Steve replied, he could advance to sexting in the next message.

Sometimes Steve's colleagues replied on his behalf, so Bucky was a bit wary about sending anything private without warning first.

~

Steve's smartwatch flashed with an incoming message from Bucky, and he paused loading his firearm so he could read it:

_Hey. Miss you! Lmk when you have time to talk? B._

Steve smiled, then put his watch's screen onto airplane mode.

He missed Bucky too, but he'd have to message him after the mission was complete. If he started chatting then had to go silent, that would raise Bucky's suspicion.

Steve sighed lightly. He didn't like lying to Bucky, but as a secret agent for SHIELD and the United States government, he didn't have a lot of choice.

"Trouble in paradise?" Natasha asked, looking over from where she was loading up on weapons too. She smiled at him.

"Nope, all fine," Steve said, and went back to strapping handguns into his thigh holsters.

They were already in their tac gear, and the Quinjet was taking them to the rendezvous point to extract Sam and Clint. It was kind of an emergency because their cover was blown, and currently they were hiding out in a building under fire.

This job was tense, but it always had been and Steve was good at his job.

"Why don't you plan something fun for Saturday night?" Natasha said casually, as they both walked to the drop hatch. "With your husband, I mean."

"Maybe I will," Steve replied, concentrating on checking his parachute cords and firearms.

Natasha did the same, but far more relaxed about it.

She'd been in the game longer than Steve, and he felt like a rookie next to her.

"You could cook," she went on, as Steve barely suppressed a sigh.

"Nat, not now," he said.

"Approaching the drop point," Hill's voice said over their Comms.

"Roger," Steve said, glancing at Nat to nod.

She nodded back. "Let's go get our boys."

The extraction went like clockwork, with Steve and Nat parachuting onto the top of the neighboring building and taking out the agents that were after Sam and Clint.

Once inside the building to find Sam and Clint, they all ended up in a stairwell fighting off enemy agents as they aimed for the roof for pick up. Clint's leg was injured, and Sam was helping to carry him while Natasha and Steve defended them. They were winning, they were going to make it.

Then as Steve was fighting the last agent in close combat, he fell badly onto his arm and he knew it was hurt. Natasha came to his aid, delivering a roundhouse kick to the agent and freeing Steve.

"You hurt?" she asked, trying to check his arm.

Steve waved her off, and got to his feet. "I'll be fine. Let's get out of here."

"I second that," Sam said, still hauling Clint along. Natasha went to help him, and Steve covered their six as they exited onto the roof. Hill picked them up in the Quinjet, and they were safe.

Inside the jet, Steve tested his right arm out and gritted his teeth.

Yep, something was definitely broken.

"Shit," he muttered, as the Medic hurried over. "Help Clint first," Steve told them.

Nat was with Clint, trying to get him onto a stretcher as the Medic went over there. Sam came and sat next to Steve, looking down at his arm.

"You break it?" he asked.

"Might be a fracture," Steve said with a wince.

"Ouch." Sam shook his head. "You know why you and Barton both had accidents, right? It's Friday 13th."

Steve smiled wryly. "Barton always has accidents, doesn't matter what day it is."

Sam laughed. "True."

As the Medic started to set Clint's leg, Natasha came over to check on Steve.

"Let me see," she said, and Steve relented.

Natasha was medically trained, and she felt around his arm gently. Steve sucked air in when she touched his forearm.

She looked at him seriously. "You'll need an X-ray when we get back."

"I know," Steve sighed.

"Looks like two of the team are getting some time off," Sam said.

This made Natasha smile. "Well, Steve, looks like you'll have plenty of time to plan your Saturday night in after all."

"Funny," Steve grumbled.


	2. Two

Bucky's phone rang, and it was Steve's special ringtone.

He'd been in the middle of making a sandwich, and Bucky dropped everything to dash across the kitchen and answer his phone.

"Steve!" he said, thrilled to be hearing from him. He would've been more thrilled for a videochat, but this was a voice call only.

"Hey, Buck," his husband's voice replied. "How's things? Did you finish your book?"

Bucky resisted rolling his eyes. "Never mind about that," he said, leaning on the counter to speak into the phone. "When are you coming home?"

"Well, actually..." Steve started, and Bucky deflated because he figured Steve was about to tell him he was working late again.

Then Steve surprised him by saying, "I'll be home in time for dinner."

"Tonight?" Bucky said, almost in disbelief. "Really?"

"Yeah." Steve sounded like he was smiling. "How does take-out sound? I'll get it on my way home."

"Sure, if you want," Bucky replied. Great, that meant he didn't have to cook. "What time will you be here?"

"Should be at five," Steve said. "Is that okay?"

Bucky grinned. "Yeah, it's okay. I can't wait to see you."

"Me, too, Buck," Steve said quietly. "I'd better go. I'll see you later, alright?"

"Yeah. Bye, Steve."

The call ended pretty abruptly, but Steve was always like that. Bucky raised his arms and did an excited dance around the kitchen island because he was finally getting an evening in with Steve.

With any luck, they'd have time for some romantic snuggling on the couch too.

Bucky spent the next few hours completely ignoring the chapter he should've been writing, ignoring his emails and tidying up the house instead.

He wanted everything to be perfect when Steve came home. He set the kitchen table ready to eat, and put plates to warm in the oven. He even opened the bottle of wine he'd been saving and poured a glass, excited for Steve to arrive.

It wasn't like they were going out to eat, but Bucky wanted to make an effort for his husband. He even dashed upstairs and had a quick shower, changing into nice clothes just in time for five PM.

Bucky heard the car pull up outside, and he headed downstairs to open the door. He had a huge smile on his face when he saw Steve standing there, holding a big bag of take-out in one hand... but the smile fell off Bucky's face as he noticed Steve's other arm was in a sling under the jacket draped across his shoulders.

"Hey, Buck," Steve greeted, smiling like nothing was amiss. There was a purple bruise on his left cheek too.

"What happened to your arm?" Bucky demanded.

"Oh, yeah, that," Steve said. "Would you believe someone left a box right in the hall? I tripped over it and knocked my elbow. Just a hairline fracture, it'll be back to normal soon."

Bucky's jaw dropped open. "Steve!" he exclaimed. "What the hell?"

Steve shifted awkwardly on the spot. "Buck, can I come in? I'd kinda like to sit down."

"Oh, sorry." Bucky stood aside and held the door open, eyes on Steve as he walked through.

"Thanks." Steve paused to lean in with his lips puckered out for a kiss.

Bucky leaned back. "Steve, go sit your ass down and explain what happened first."

Steve retreated sheepishly. Bucky shut the door after him and followed Steve into the kitchen.

"How'd you get a bruise on your face?" Bucky asked, watching Steve set the take-out onto the table.

"I just tumbled into a wall, Buck," Steve said, and began trying to shrug off his jacket one armed.

Bucky went to give him a hand. Having worn a prosthetic for years, Bucky knew how annoying having only one working arm could be.

"I hope your boss will make sure nothing like this ever happens again?" Bucky asked, looking Steve over. Aside from the arm in a soft brace and a sling, and the bruise on his cheek, he seemed okay.

"Yeah, they're taking care of everything," Steve assured him. "You hungry? I'm starving."

Bucky smiled. "Alright. Sit down, I'll dish up."

"Thanks, Buck." Steve sat in his chair, grinning up at him.

"Don't expect me to feed you," Bucky muttered, going to open the take-out bag. Steve tugged gently at Bucky's shirt, so Bucky relented and leaned down to give him a kiss.

"Missed you," Steve said.

"I missed you, too, you jerk," Bucky said.

Despite Steve insisting he was fine, his arm was very clearly giving him some pain.

They tried to sit together on the couch, and Bucky sat on Steve's good side, but apparently Steve had bruises under his shirt that he hadn't told Bucky about, and Bucky only found out about them when he leaned into Steve for a cuddle.

Steve hissed in pain, and Bucky couldn't believe Steve was trying to downplay his injuries.

"That's it," Bucky said decisively. He got up and looked for his phone. "I'm calling your boss."

"What? Why?" Steve said, scrambling to get up and follow.

"Because I'm going to chew them out, that's why!" Bucky picked up his phone and started scrolling for Fury's number.

Steve made a grab for Bucky's phone, but Bucky held it away and raised his eyebrows in challenge.

"Bucky, please don't call anyone. It was an accident."

"No, it's a fucking disaster," Bucky said, and had to dodge Steve's next attempt to grab his phone. "Steve, somebody needs to hold these assholes accountable, and if you won't do it then I will."

"It was an accident!" Steve insisted. "And they'll take care of all the medical."

"That's not the point!" Bucky snapped, feeling upset. "What if you'd really hurt yourself, Steve? This is serious!"

Steve looked at him for a moment, then gently drew Bucky into a hug. "Oh, honey, I know. I know it's serious. But I'm a big boy, okay? I can take care of myself."

Bucky pulled a face that Steve wouldn't see, and silently raised his phone behind Steve's back to continue scrolling. "Still calling Fury," he muttered.

Steve sighed. "Can you at least do it tomorrow?" he pleaded. "I just want to relax tonight with my husband. It's been a long day."

Bucky frowned, then he relented. "Fine," he said, locking his phone screen. "Tomorrow it is."

"Thanks, Buck." Steve hugged him. "So why don't you tell me how your book's going?"

"Mmph," Bucky murmured. The one question he wanted to avoid. "Yeah, it's fine," he lied.

So, he had a bit of writer's block. No sweat, he'd pull it out of the bag. He always did.


	3. Three

Steve had always been in awe of Bucky's creativity.

Bucky was an author, a damn good one too. He'd written so many books it was hard to keep up sometimes, but Steve had read a few of them.

He may have slipped a little in the last couple years, but he blamed that on work for making him too worn out to do anything but come home and sleep. Now Steve had made himself unusable in the field, they told him that after a week's paid leave to recuperate, he'd be put on desk duty. Not something Steve was looking forward to, but he figured he'd be able to catch up on his reading list at least.

Bucky was apparently satisfied for Steve's general health and wellbeing after a phonecall with Maria Hill, assuring him that Steve had been involved in a clumsy accident (Steve resented the word 'clumsy') and that nothing of the sort would happen again.

Natasha called as well, talking to both Bucky and Steve on video chat to see if Steve was behaving himself by taking it easy at home. Bucky had snorted big time at that, making Natasha laugh.

So, with things relatively back to normal, Bucky spent the days inside his office with Alpine sleeping near him, while Steve puttered about the house tidying up and trying to keep himself busy.

He filled up his audio book files with Bucky's most recent titles, and put his earbuds in as he worked. Steve smiled as he listened to the narration of Bucky's words. Bucky wrote mainly thrillers: lots of spies, double agents and very dramatic stuff.

It was actually how they'd met, as Steve had read one of Bucky's books, chuckled at the Hollywood style spy action, and had decided to go to one of Bucky's book signings.

And it wasn't just that the photo of Bucky inside the book cover showed a very handsome man, no, that wasn't the only thing Steve loved about Bucky; Steve loved the way Bucky's mind worked, how he wrote the characters and made a thriller entertaining too.

Bucky had been charming in person, with a wry sense of humor that Steve adored, and they'd grabbed dinner after Bucky's signing to talk some more. Steve knew he was a goner for Bucky that very night, gazing into his eyes over dinner as Bucky smiled at him.

Steve loved Bucky, very much. They were married within a year of meeting, and they'd been married for nearly six years now.

And Steve had so far managed to avoid anything to raise suspicion, to make Bucky think he was anything other than a data analyst. Bucky did seem to trust him, and accepted Steve's lies.

He knew Bucky wasn't keen on his long hours, though. Steve had always thought being at home to write was what Bucky wanted, but after three days at home himself he was so bored he didn't know how Bucky coped with it.

On day four, when Steve made a snack and took it upstairs for Bucky, he paused at the half open door to Bucky's study.

Alpine was there, as usual, fast asleep. And Bucky was at his desk, as usual, but he wasn't dictating or typing or even reading. Steve watched for a moment, as Bucky hadn't heard him approach, and he stared out the window.

Steve wondered if Bucky was thinking about his plot or something, but then he heard Bucky sigh, and it sounded like a fed up sigh.

Steve frowned, and quietly backed away into the hall. Was Bucky annoyed about something? Or maybe the book was annoying him?

Steve gave it a moment, then decided to re-enter the study and to announce his presence first. "Buck!" he called out before reaching the doorway. "I made you a snack." Steve took the sandwich in and placed it on a clear section of Bucky's desk.

Bucky thanked him and smiled, and though Steve looked he couldn't see anything in Bucky's face that concerned him.

"How's the writing?" Steve asked.

Bucky's face changed, his smile dimming.

Oh, Steve thought. That was the problem, then.

"Yeah, it's fine," Bucky said, clearly not wanting to talk about it.

Steve nodded, and he wasn't going to press the issue. Bucky had been a writer for a long time, he didn't need Steve butting in.

"You wanna go out for dinner later?" he offered. "My treat."

Bucky smiled again. "Okay," he said softly. "Might have to be a late dinner, I have to finish this chapter."

"That's fine, Buck," Steve told him. "Whenever you're ready we can go."

Steve thought eating out at his favourite restaurant would help Bucky feel better.

It was certainly good to get out of the house. Steve had always been a restless sort of person. He'd have to figure out how to use the gym without hurting his arm more too.

"Do you want to do something on the weekend?" he asked over the main course.

Bucky shook his head. "Love to, but I'm behind on my schedule."

"Oh," Steve said. "Anything I can help with?"

"Not unless you want to write it for me," Bucky sighed, reaching for his glass. He was drinking water, because he had to drive. Steve couldn't drive because of his arm.

"I'd give it a go," Steve offered, "but I'm sure it'd be terrible and all your readers would demand a refund."

Bucky laughed, then groaned lightly. "Can't be worse than what I'm doing."

"What's wrong?" Steve reached over, took Bucky's hand in his. "Talk to me."

Bucky held Steve's hand, and shook his head. "I dunno. Nothing, really."

"It's gotta be something," Steve said. "If you tell me, maybe I can help?"

"It's fine, it's just me," Bucky said, trying to dismiss it.

"Buck, tell me."

"I'm just, I dunno..." Bucky looked away. "Just a bit bored, I guess."

"Oh," Steve said, confused. "Of the book?"

"Yeah, the book," Bucky sighed. "The characters, the series. Everything."

"Oh," Steve said again. "Could you... start with some new characters?"

"I'm contracted for this book," Bucky said sadly. "It's fine, I'll push through it. I dunno, it's stupid. I'm just bored of spy stuff, I guess."

Steve had to school his features so he didn't give his feelings away. "I see."

Well, he thought. Shit.


	4. Four

Monday came, and Steve got picked up by a car from SHIELD, leaving Bucky at home to work on his book while he went into the actual office and sat at an actual desk.

Steve should've been working, analysing data. Ironically, the exact job Bucky thought he did. But Steve was listless, his mind drifting off. He sat at his desk, much like he'd seen Bucky do, and he stared into space as he thought and thought and thought of a way to inspire his husband and make him feel happier again.

Around lunchtime, Natasha and Sam decided to come and annoy him. Clint was at home resting his leg, so it was just Sam and Nat on missions for the time being. Meanwhile they had a good laugh at Steve sitting at a desk.

"Laugh it up," Steve told them. "I'll be back out there soon enough."

"Not for a few weeks, at least," Natasha replied, sitting in a spare chair and kicking her booted feet up.

Sam sat his butt on Steve's desk, grinning down at him. "No more missions on Friday the 13th."

"Deal," Steve agreed. "So, what's new?"

"Same old," Sam said. "You?"

"Actually," Steve smiled, "I've been thinking..."

"Yes, we saw you on the security feed staring at the wall," Nat pointed out.

"I was thinking," Steve repeated. "I want to do something for Bucky."

Sam pulled a face. "Do we need to hear this?"

"It's not a personal thing," Steve snorted. "It's... well, I want to do something that gets him excited."

Sam raised his hands and got up. "I'm out. See you guys later."

"That's not what I meant!" Steve called after him, as Natasha laughed.

"It isn't what I meant, though," Steve insisted.

"Tell me," she said, sitting up and scooting her chair closer.

Steve swivelled his chair to her, and thought about how to phrase this. "So... you know he writes spy books?"

Nat nodded.

"And he said something the other day," Steve explained, "like he's bored of the spy genre. And I thought, maybe I could set something up that would invigorate his interest again."

"Ah." Nat grinned wolfishly. "Arrange a kidnapping?"

Steve frowned. "No, Natasha. Definitely not that. No, I thought... like, a secret mission?"

"A secret mission?" she said flatly.

"Yeah, why not?" Steve mused. "The government randomly chose a citizen to carry out a mission."

Natasha gave him a look. "Or," she said, "you could make him think that, then surprise him at the end so he knows it's only you. And," she added with a wink, "make it a sexy surprise."

Steve laughed, and thought about it. "What sort of sexy surprise?"

"Make the mission a treasure hunt," she suggested. "End it somewhere nice, like a hotel room. Then you can do the big reveal."

"Oh." Steve's eyes went wide. "Yes, I like that. That's a great idea."

Nat preened under the praise. "Of course it is. Do you need help planning it?"

"Hm, no, I'm good," Steve replied. "But if you could grab me a burner phone from the supply closet, that'd be awesome."

"I got you," she said.

~

It was a regular Wednesday when Steve went off to work, leaving Bucky at home as normal.

Bucky sat upstairs in his office, staring at the screen of his computer instead of actually writing. Alpine was snoozing in the chair nearby.

Then a vehicle pulled up outside.

Any distraction was like gold to Bucky right now, and he scooted over to the window to peer down at the driveway.

It was a FedEx van, and the driver was getting out.

This was exciting, Bucky thought, leaping out of his seat and running downstairs. He made it just as the delivery driver got to the door, and he seemed a little startled as Bucky flung it open.

"Uh, package for Barnes?" the guy said.

"Thanks," Bucky said, signing the little device and accepting the parcel.

There was no information on the parcel itself, just Bucky's name and address. Was it promotional items from his agent, or an eBay purchase he'd forgotten about?

Last time Bucky'd had a parcel and gotten excited, it turned out to be those special cat kibbles he'd ordered for Alpine.

Bucky closed his door and wandered through to the kitchen, shaking the parcel to test it. Something rattled in there.

Here's hoping he hadn't broken it.

Bucky set the parcel down and carefully began opening it. What was inside surprised him, to the point where he wondered if it'd been sent to the wrong address. There was a small, cheap cell phone.

A burner phone, his mind supplied.

Bucky sat at the table and peered inside the box. Nothing. Next, he examined the phone. It was a flip, so he flipped it open and pressed the power button.

If the phone was an IED, he'd be toast right now, Bucky thought, his mind going into overdrive yet again.

The phone turned itself on without incident, and once the menu was available Bucky had a look through it.

The contacts list had only one name on there, and it said _M._

Bucky couldn't help but snort. Bit like James Bond, he thought. Well, whoever M was, they'd clearly had their cheap ass phone sent to the wrong address.

"Okay, let's give this a try," Bucky muttered, pressing the dial option. Cheap phone or not, it was only fair to tell this person that Bucky had their phone by mistake.

The number rang, and Bucky wasn't sure what to expect. Maybe a sweet old lady? Like Dame Judi Dench. But when the line clicked on and a voice answered, Bucky wasn't expecting to hear what sounded like an electronic voice distorter as the voice said, "You got the package, Mr. Barnes."

Bucky blinked in surprise. "I, uh... yes?"

"Good," the computery-sounding voice said lowly. "I'm going to give you instructions and you must follow them carefully."

Bucky's heart began pounding, but he managed to splutter out, "Wait, what? Who is this?"

"My name is M," the voice replied. "I work for the secret service, and we need your help. In a moment, you will receive a text message giving you the address of the rendezvous point. Your mission, if you choose to accept it, is to infiltrate and obtain information."

Bucky's mouth dropped open but no sound came out.

"Mr. Barnes, this is very sensitive information," the voice went on. "You must not share it with anyone. Do you understand?"

"Wait, wait," Bucky choked out. "Why me? I'm not, I mean, I'm a civilian!"

"That's exactly why we need you," the voice replied. "As a civilian you won't arouse suspicion..." The voice broke off as some crackling came over the line, sounding a little like laughter but that could've been the interference. "This is a matter of national security, Mr. Barnes. Can we count on you?"

Bucky should've ended the call and thrown the phone into the toilet, but something reckless in him took hold and he blurted out, "Yes! You can count on me."


	5. Five

"Quick, help me get dressed," Steve instructed, struggling with his tac gear one handed.

Natasha had a huge grin on her face, and set to work buckling Steve in.

"This sure is elaborate," Clint said, sitting in a chair with his crutches.

"It needs to be elaborate," Steve said. "Have you finished that recording yet?"

"Yep, all done." Clint waved the small iPod. "Just plug it in and play it in order, and you'll hear my sexy voice."

Nat shot him a look as she tightened Steve's straps. "You're good to go, Rogers."

"Thanks. Help me light the room? I just want to show a silhouette, but I don't want him to recognise me yet."

"Sure you're not gonna give the poor guy nightmares?" Clint chuckled.

"He'll be fine," Steve insisted. "He'll be arriving downstairs soon. C'mon."

~

After feeding Alpine, Bucky drove into town and followed the directions he'd been given to a hotel.

It wasn't a cheap hotel, either. Bucky was pleased he'd thrown on a clean shirt. He re-read the message on the flip-phone, took a fortifying breath and got out of the car.

If everything went wrong, he'd call Steve to get him out. No biggie.

Bucky locked his car and headed to the hotel's reception. He was supposed to ask for a package under a code name, and inside the package would be further instructions.

Bucky's heart thumped away, mostly with excitement as he approached the clerk at the desk. She looked up at him. "Can I help you, sir?"

Bucky smiled nervously, and tried to play it cool. "I don't suppose you have a package for Solomon?"

"Yes, sir," she replied, and reached under the desk for a package.

It was no bigger than a shoebox, and Bucky was almost too stunned to accept it. "Oh," he squeaked, as she pushed the box toward him. "Um, thanks!"

He tucked it under his arm and hurried away to a quiet corner where he could open it. Inside the box was a letter, that was all.

Bucky tore it open to read, eyes widening as he saw the words 'male escort' and 'infiltrate the target's room'. Bucky put the letter down and considered walking out right then and there.

Then he re-read the letter in full:

_Mr. Barnes, your mission should you choose to accept it, is to gather information from the target inside room 107. You will be posing as a male escort, he is already expecting you. Once inside the room, do as he says and remember everything he talks about, so you can report back to us. No harm will come to you, we assure you of that._

_-M._

Bucky breathed in and out a few times, debating his choices.

This was nuts, he concluded. It was completely irrational for him to even consider doing this.

He smiled to himself. Yeah, and it was also kind of exciting.

Bucky pocketed the letter and left the empty box. He walked through reception and went up in the elevator, taking a deep breath as it ascended. 

On the right floor, Bucky exited the elevator and looked at the room numbers. Room 95, and 96. He was close. Bucky walked along the quiet hall, past a vase of fresh flowers and a large mirror on the wall. He happened to glance at himself and did a double take.

His hair was a bit shaggy today, and he'd only thrown an old jacket on over his shirt. The look didn't exactly scream _male escort_, and Bucky took a moment to think about his image.

Well, he could work with it.

Bucky quickly removed his jacket and undid the top few buttons of his shirt, exposing his neck and collarbone.

Better. But his hair... God.

Looking around, Bucky spotted the water inside the vase with the flowers. He checked the hallway left and right, but he was alone. Bucky tossed the flowers, and used the water to smooth his hair back, getting it slick and styled.

He took a step back from the mirror to look at himself again. Yes, this would do, he thought. He grabbed his jacket and hooked it over his shoulder.

Now, he had a mission to complete.

He strode off to room 107, and knocked on the door.

No one answered, and Bucky wasn't sure what to do, but he tried the door. It was open, and he peered inside to the darkened room.

"Hello?" he called softly.

"Please come in," said a voice, no distorter now but just a regular guy voice. "Lock the door behind you."

Bucky entered the room and shut the door, turning the latch.

It was too dark to make anything out except silhouettes, and Bucky saw the guy sitting in a chair across the room.

Steeling himself, Bucky slipped into character. "You wanted some company?" he asked.

There was a pause in reply, and the guy rustled around with his clothes for a second, then said, "Go over to the bed. Lay down."

Bucky's breath caught.

Okay, here goes, he thought. He dropped his jacket and walked slowly over to the bed.

What would his husband think of him? Bucky wondered, as he got onto the bed and laid down. His pulse beat loud in his ears. The room was quiet enough that Bucky would hear if the guy moved at all.

Or, so he hoped.

"Take off your shirt," came the next instruction.

Bucky realised he hadn't thought this through. His fingers shook as he unbuttoned his shirt. What was this guy going to think of his prosthetic? Bucky didn't know.

As he got to the last button, Bucky very gingerly opened his shirt. His chest rose and fell with every deep breath he took.

"That's it," the voice said. "Now I have a surprise for you..."

Bucky listened intently as the guy rose from his chair, and slowly walked over to the bed. "Yeah, I got a surprise for you, too," Bucky said, executing a roll and making a fist with his metal hand. He aimed a punch right at the guy's crotch, and the guy doubled over in pain.

Strangely, the cry he let out sounded really familiar, and totally different from the recorded voice.

Bucky peered over the edge of the bed, watching the black-clad figure clutch his parts and curl up on the floor. "Ow, ow," he whimpered.

"What the fuck," Bucky muttered, and scrambled away to turn on the lamp.

When light flooded the room, Bucky looked down on the guy and his eyes went wide with shock.

"_Steve?_"

Yes, that was definitely his husband clutching his balls in pain.

"Oh, God, Steve." Bucky crouched beside him, full of concern. "I'm sorry, babe, I didn't know it was you."

"It's okay," Steve wheezed, and tried to smile through the pain. "I... probably didn't think this through."

"What exactly are you doing here?" Bucky asked, eyeing Steve's get up. "Did you plan all this?"

"Yeah." Steve winced. "I thought it'd be fun."

Bucky had to bite his lip to stop from smiling. "I'll call room service and see if they'll send us some ice, okay?"

Steve nodded, eyes closing again. "Yeah, that'd be great. Thanks, Buck."


	6. Six

Once Steve was on ice and sitting carefully in a chair, Bucky started interrogating him.

"What exactly were you thinking, Steve?"

"I just wanted to... inject some excitement?" Steve said, meekly adjusting his ice pack.

Bucky frowned in confusion. "If you wanted to do roleplay you probably should've asked me first."

Steve nodded. "You're right. But it wasn't that, I wanted to make you excited about spy stuff."

"Oh?" Bucky thought about it, from the burner phone to the weird instructions, and all the anticipation he'd had carrying out the mission. He grinned. "Yeah, I guess it was exciting."

"Great," Steve said around a wince.

"So whose voice was that on the recording?" Bucky asked.

"Clint."

"Clint your pal from work?" Bucky raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that a little weird, Steve?"

Steve made a noncommittal grunt. "Clint and Nat, they like excitement too."

"Alright," Bucky said dubiously.

Steve sighed. "Buck, I need to tell you something. The long hours, the trips away? I'm not a data analyst."

Bucky nodded sagely. "I know."

Steve looked up with surprise. "What do you mean, you know?"

"That you're a super secret spy?" Bucky smiled at him. "Yeah, I know."

The look on Steve's face was priceless. "How?" he choked out. "I was so careful!"

Bucky couldn't help a chuckle. "I know you were, babe. But I put it together years ago." 

Steve didn't seem to know what to do with this information. "I... see," he said. "Man, I felt so bad lying to you, Buck. I never wanted to."

"I know, Steve. It's cool, I get it. But I don't like you getting injured, ever. That is not okay."

Steve glanced down at his crotch, covered in an ice pack. "Neither do I," he said dryly. "But you said you were bored? I just wanted to inspire you again."

"Actually, you have," Bucky admitted. "Once I get this current book over with, I'm thinking of switching genres and writing a rom com."

"A rom com?" Steve questioned.

"Yeah, I got the perfect story too," Bucky said, feeling excited. "It'll be about a gay couple. One of them's an active spy, and the other one is retired. See, the retired spy got injured in the field, and that's why he became a writer instead."

A dawning look broke over Steve's face. "Oh," he said, and started to laugh. "You are shitting me."

Bucky grinned back at him. "No shit," he said. "Now I guess I'd better call Fury and explain to him why you're not going into work tomorrow."

"I'll be fine," Steve insisted.

"No, I think we deserve a day of making up," Bucky countered.

"Alright," Steve said. "Can't argue with that."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and (nice!) comments fuel me!
> 
> I am on [tumblr](http://jro616.tumblr.com) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/jro616).


End file.
